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Wednesday 1.5.02 | A notice has gone up in the hall: If a one-armed man comes to the door, you should contact police in Ealing immediately. This raises several questions, the answers to which are admittedly best left to the Almighty, but anyway: What the fuck? sums up my thoughts on the matter nicely. And today's moment of blondeness: Shit, it's May already. Thursday 2.5.02 Whew. Three-hours on the rack of French grammar over, thank god, and the more I think about it, the more I convince myself that I didn't fuck it up. This, on the other hand, could just be me subconsciously supressing all the glaring errors I made and just not wanting the examiners to think about what I wrote (I mean honestly, when you get an exam question saying 'Write a 300-word obituary of a character, real or ficticious, of someone you admire,' you are asking for it, n'est-ce pas?) because I just ended up taking the piss ('Oscar Wilde was born in 1852. The significant moment of his childhood was not his education, which was carried out only after his grandmother bribed his uncle becuase his father had tried to impart what little he knew about the Russian economy and failed, but when he fell down the stairs at the age of three and hurt his ear.' - This, by the way, is not a joke. I wrote this, word for word, in French, although my syntax was admittedly a little clearer) which I'm now mildly worried about. Oh well, I just hope they find it amusing. Chance grosse, as the French don't say. Friday 3.5.02 ...and then I just found myself in Kings' Union, dancing away to trash with Charlie, going out on a minor bender and feeling bloody envious that our Union isn't on the river. And suddenly it was 3 in the morning and I realised I meant to have a minor, quiet night out. Satuday 4.5.02 I know this is ground I've covered before on here, but the mystery still prevails. Someone please tell me what is wrong with the doctrine that we are born, we live, we love, we lose, we die. Why does there need to be a point to everything? Monday 6.5.02 'Yes, we were going to have local elections here,' says mother chattily over the weekend, 'but they cancelled it because one of the candidates died.' I know this shouldn't be funny, and it's in the worst possible taste, and I was probably just working out all my stress, but I couldn't stop giggling to myself for ages.
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